Blackened Moonlight
by Adriana Black
Summary: AU Harry is the black sheep of the Potter family, he always had the feeling something was missing in his life. Meanwhile, the Dark Lord is devastated at the death of his son, and will do anything to get revenge…


**A/N: I did it! I rewrote the first chapter of Blackened Moonlight! I'm very proud of this chapter. Over 3.500 words! I'm hoping that all my chapters will have this length. Thank you to all those who supported me, you guys are what kept me going! Please review and tell me what you think.**

**Chapter 1: The Birth**

In the clearing of a thick, dark forest stood a huge, gothic castle. In the dark woods, the castle did not stand out of place, especially in the dead of night when the castle had an eerie glow to it, making it look abandoned and haunted if it weren't for the faint glow of light coming out of a few random windows.

A woman's scream could be heard from the top of one of the highest of the many towers, situated asymmetrically from one another, with seemingly random heights. Screams were not an unusual noise coming from the castle. This is the reason many animals stayed away, or in time had gotten used to the screams. Nonetheless, a flock of birds still managed to get a scare, and flapped their wings desperately out of the forest's roof, cawing in annoyance and panic as they flew away in the opposite direction of the castle, causing the trees to ruffle a bit. Other than that, the forest seemed lifeless.

What was unusual about the scream was that it came from one of the towers, and not from the dungeons where the screams usually came from, making them sound echo like as though a rush of wind whooshed by. The woman's scream was clear, and she was obviously in a lot of pain, obviously dying.

In the room from which the woman was screaming, stood three males, one of them was yet to be born.

"She's dying." One of the males said. He was wearing a loose white robe, looking critically at the panting young woman lain on the bed. He bit his nails out of an act of nervousness. By the look of his nails, or lack there of, the man was nervous a lot.

"His Lordship will not be pleased." The man continued, slightly panicky. His breathing became harsher, as he looked desperately at the other male, who stood calmly.

The other man, who had platinum blond hair, stared dully at the gasping girl.

"She matters very little. What about the child?" The man said, snapping his grey eyes towards the other, who immediately stopped biting his nails, as though he were caught with his hands in the cookie jar.

"It'll probably die too."

This time, the blonde widened his eyes and looked panicky. He looked wide-eyed and stared accusingly at the other man.

"The child can not die, you understand me? If he dies, it'll... It'll be your fault. And _he_ will not forgive you for murdering his child!"

"I didn't murder him! There's nothing I can do! She'll die along with the boy. _I'm really sorry." _The man seemed to be close to tears, shaking his head wildly.

"Is there nothing you can do? Nothing at all? Remember this is for both our sakes!" The blonde man said, his usually blank face full of fear.

"Oh don't worry, you have nothing to fear. He'll certainly spare his _second in command_. It's my own life I'm worried about." The white robed man said, pacing the room.

The blonde man remained silent, staring blankly at the woman, who had in the mean time fallen unconscious.

"There is _something_ I could do. But- but it'll kill Helena." The white robed man said nervously, who was biting his nails again.

The blonde man turned around, furious.

"For Merlin's sake, Brooks! Is that what has been stopping you? The death of a silly girl? She is going to die anyway! Your stupidity never ceases to amaze me! How you managed to be claimed as Britain's best healer is beyond me!"

"But- but... Doesn't _she_ matter?" Brooks asked quietly, speaking as though he was a little kid who had just been told Saint Nicholas doesn't exist.

"Of course not! It was never about _her._ It has always been about the boy. Always. Since the very beginning. In fact, the Dark Lord is counting on her death."

"Why?" Brooks asked, not understanding the logic behind the Dark Lord's decisions.

At this the Dark Lord's second in command sighed, and ran a hand through his perfect hair, messing it up a little bit. It was a very uncharacteristic trait to say the least.

"Brooks, my friend," He started, although he hardly considered the pitiful excuse of a healer his friend. "If I knew the logic and reasoning behind all the Dark Lord's decisions and thoughts, my life would be a lot easier. There isn't a day where my life isn't hanging on a thread."

Brooks didn't look convinced. Everyone knew that Malfoy and the Dark Lord were mates. _And_ he knew Malfoy thought lowly of him. He wasn't a pureblood. In fact, he was hardly considered a half-blood. His family tree consisted of inter-muggleborn marriages. That means that in Malfoy's logic, he was just a mudblood.

When he joined the Dark Lord's ranks, the Dark Lord looked passed his unfortunate family ties and welcomed him because of his talent. At first he had been ecstatic, but soon he learned that the Dark Lord had never trusted him, always keeping him out of the loop with his 'don't ask questions' policy that only tended to apply to him.

It seemed that that currently was also the case. Malfoy knew something he didn't and he was most likely ordered not to inform him. It made him bitter. But the matter at hand was that there was a dying woman, a woman who had been kind to him, and this man was telling him she had to die.

Not if he could do anything about it.

"Doesn't he love her?" Brooks finally asked, hoping to be pleasantly surprised. Unfortunately, he wasn't.

The blonde man laughed hysterically.

"Oh please Brooks, be reasonable. Of course he doesn't. She's just a bearer for his heir. Now that we've established this, you can get the child and kill the bitch."

It was fair to say, Brooks had not been expecting this. In fact, he had always thought it was the girl that mattered, not the child. He was actually planning on suggesting killing the child to spare the woman. Brooks was under the impression that the Dark Lord didn't _need_ children, since he was planning to be immortal anyway. It turned out he was very, very, _very_ wrong.

"She is regaining consciousness." Malfoy broke him out of his musings.

A moan confirmed Malfoy's statement.

Brooks immediately snapped out of his stupor and transformed into his 'healer mode' as he liked to call it. Completely emotionless, with a tad bit of empathy and a warm smile seemed to relax the patients. He himself, on the other hand, had to pretend to see the patients as inanimate objects, just waiting to be studied. It helped blind out the screams of pain and the blood. He just convinced himself that those were just reactions of the inanimate object, just like the ripping noise a piece of paper would make if one would tear it up.

Unfortunately, it was a lot harder for him now. He _knew_ this woman. He had been her personal healer even before he had joined the Dark Lord, as he and the girl had been through thick and thin.

And she had been _kind_ to him. Not judgmental like the rest. Like Malfoy. He would never understand what she saw in the Dark Lord. But he assumed she didn't have much of a choice. She came from a hard-core pureblood family, was quite powerful, very intelligent, and not to mention, very beautiful. The perfect candidate for the Dark Lord.

"My Lady, how are you feeling?" He whispered, as though loud noises would physically hurt her.

"So- so much pain." She croaked.

Brooks frowned. He was not going to let her die!

"Okay, milady Helena, you're going to have to push." He said tentatively. Unfortunately, she was not fooled.

"I'm not due for another few weeks!" She said angrily; as though she wasn't suffering from any pain what so ever.

"You have to give birth _now_ milady, or both you _and_ the child will die." He said strictly. There was no time to be evasive; he had to be blunt in these situations.

She understood. She nodded solemnly.

At the corner of his eye he noticed Malfoy frown. This was obviously not part of the plan. He was certain Malfoy expected him to just rip the child from her womb, which would conveniently kill her in the process.

The next few hours consisted mostly of Helena screaming and pushing and crying, while Brooks whispered encouraging things.

Malfoy, having gotten bored sat down and watched the ordeal with an air of disinterest even though it was obvious he was watching everything as though he were watching a particularly exciting quidditch game.

After what seemed like hours a faint cry was heard.

All heads turned to the source of the cry. A tiny babe was held in the hands of Healer Brooks. He was holding it as though it was God's child.

Technically, it was.

Brooks smiled softly at the child. It was small and pale, but it had the most beautiful green eyes, almost glowing. But best of all, the child simply radiated power.

A soft sigh was heard, reminding everyone that, unlike predicted, the mother was still alive.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" The tired woman asked.

"A boy." Brooks replied, still transfixed with the child.

A laugh of joy was heard from the girl. Even a small smile was forming on Malfoy's lips.

"Can I hold him?" She asked weakly.

Malfoy opened his mouth to object but before he could form a sentence Brooks carefully handed the fragile boy to his mother.

She held him tightly. Brooks was about to warn her that the boy was fragile and she could crush him until he saw a fat tear roll down her cheek.

_She knew._

She knew her inevitable fate.

Malfoy took this as his cue to take action. He drew his wand.

Brooks drew his wand to stop Malfoy, but it was too late, a flash of green light was heading towards Helena, barely missing the baby.

She was dead.

Before Brooks could berate Malfoy for nearly killing the baby (although Malfoy was notorious for his perfect aim, never missing a target), Malfoy beat him to it.

"Please don't tell me you actually intended to stop me?" He hissed angrily.

"Y-you nearly killed the child!" Brooks said, trying to change the topic.

Malfoy wasn't fooled, still looking furiously at the healer.

"The Dark Lord will be hearing of this. You intentionally disobeyed his orders!"

"No, Malfoy, no! Please listen to me! I mean, had you been in my position wouldn't you have done the same? If _He_ suddenly ordered you to kill your wife, would you not at least have tried your best to prevent such a fate upon her?" Brooks said breathlessly, his knees having given in to make it almost seem as though he were begging Malfoy.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes and gave a look of distaste face.

"And tell me Brooks," he said dangerously. "How can Helena be compared to your wife?"

Brooks stood stock-still. He had given himself away. He _had_ to save himself, if it wasn't too late already.

"Well?"

"I- I- well, y-you see, it's not like you think-"

"And what am I thinking Brooks?"

Brooks mentally slapped himself. Malfoy wasn't an idiot, he _knew_ the conclusion Malfoy would make, and unfortunately it was the correct one. He had no choice now. He raised his wand.

Malfoy was too quick for him. The dueled. He quickly noticed that Malfoy did not intend to kill him, probably so that he could confess his sin to the Dark Lord.

He might as well kill himself.

He knew that Helena kept an emergency portkey in one of her drawers. If only he could indiscreetly find it and get himself out of this tight situation.

He redirected the duel. He counted his blessings for Lucius holding back, because if he weren't, Brooks would've long been dead.

He dodged a cruciatus and with a flick of his wand shot a stunning hex towards the blonde. While the blond was defending himself from that, he shot a smoke spell, fogging up the room.

A cough and a yell confirmed that Malfoy was momentarily distracted.

He hastily opened the drawer, his hand shaking, rummaging through useless clothes in search for the portkey. If it wasn't there, he was a dead man.

His fingers touched the hilt of an object, just a handkerchief. But he knew that that was the portkey. With a tug of his navel he disappeared from the hellhole, hoping never to return.

* * *

After the smoke vanished Lucius swore. The idiotic healer had outwitted him and made a run for it.

The Dark Lord would be very disappointed; he hoped that with the birth of the child his mood would be lifted.

Speaking of the child, it was still residing in his dead mother's arms. With his chin up, he walked over to the dead woman and pried the child out of her dead fingers. The baby remained silent.

Panicking, the blonde aristocrat quickly checked for a pulse, believing the baby to be dead. Luckily it wasn't. But it was so small due to the premature birth. So fragile. And yet, so powerful, having an aura so similar to the Dark Lord. He knew the boy would be great.

With that in mind, he eagerly made his way to the throne room, child in his arms and a pleasant smirk on his lips.

* * *

The Dark Lord tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. Actually, it would be fair to say that it was more like a throne. Not long ago had he been told that that pathetic witch, Helena, had fallen ill.

And she had the nerve to fall ill _during_ her pregnancy.

Naturally, he sent for Healer Brooks, Britain's top healer along with Lucius to accompany him. His orders were to save the child at all costs. Well, he had told Lucius that, but he failed to mention it to Brooks. Brooks had yet to gain his trust, and his closeness towards Helena during her pregnancy had not gone unnoticed.

Brooks also didn't know that as soon as his _beloved_ had given birth, she would be killed. It wasn't just because he didn't like her, mind you. She also didn't want her to influence his _son._

And it was going to be a son, no matter what others said. He would accept no less.

He heard a woman's scream, coming from the tower which Helena resided in. Voldemort didn't know whether to smile or to frown. A scream always brought out some sadism in him, and yet, this _did _affect the life of his heir.

The child couldn't die. He wouldn't allow it. But he had his doubts about Brooks. Perhaps he should go up and supervise?

He stopped himself. It wouldn't do any good. Brooks would only be distracted and nervous in his presence, like most death eaters were.

It was possible that to save the child, it would have to be born prematurely. It wasn't due for a month.

He supposed it could have been worse. After all, there was the rumored Slytherin curse. It was said that no woman would survive a Slytherin childbirth. He intended to stick to tradition, thus his orders to kill the woman.

Who was he kidding? The only reason he wanted Helena dead is because he couldn't stand the sight of her. Granted, she was pretty, and she had fair magical skills and came from a respectable pureblood family. But her personality was not so appealing.

She was hopelessly spoiled. He never took well to spoiled people. Perhaps it was that little bit of jealousy that arose whenever he realized someone had a better childhood than him.

Having nothing better to do, the oh so feared Dark Lord dozed off, thinking about how he would raise his son, and how great he would become. A small, satisfied smirk was plastered on his face.

He was broken out of his _train of thought_ by what sounded like a fight. With his acute sense of hearing, he could hear spells being shouted out, a yell, a moment of silence followed by Lucius apparent swearing.

The Dark Lord frowned. If something went wrong, he would never forgive Lucius.

"_Ha ha ha…"_

Voldemort snapped his direction towards the source of the sound, relaxing when he saw it was Nagini.

"_What is so funny, Nagini?"_ He hissed, mostly because he had nothing to do other than indulge the serpent in a conversation.

"_I find the pathetic magical skills of your followers quite hysterical. You should've _seen_ them fighting, I've never seen anything so funny. It was as if they fought like that just to amuse me."_ Nagini hissed, flicking her forked tongue.

Actually, now Voldemort thought about it, didn't he have an Order to defeat?

"_I'm glad you found it so amusing. Are you going to tell me something useful?" _Voldemort asked.

"_The blonde man is on his way here."_ With that, she slithered away.

Not ten seconds later a knock was heard on the large mahogany doors.

"Enter." He said.

The door opened and in stepped Lucius Malfoy in all his glory, carrying a bundle. It took all of Voldemort's self control not to get up off his throne, head over to the bundle and peer in it. Instead, he clutched the arms of the throne, putting on a face of annoyance.

The Malfoy patriarch smirked, knowing full well that he was not going to get hurt by Voldemort. After all, what would he do without him?

"I heard fighting. What happened? Where's Brooks?" Voldemort said, pretending like he couldn't care less what was in the bundle. In fact he felt quite the opposite.

"I had an unfortunate encounter with Brooks. He got away, unfortunately." Lucius said hesitantly.

"Oh? You failed to stop him Lucius?"

"I was- was focused on the child my lord." Lucius said. Although he and the Dark Lord somewhat got along, it didn't mean that his life didn't lean on a thin thread like the rest. Well, maybe his string was just a little thicker.

"Continue."

"Well, as you said my lord, the child was what was important. And you ordered me to kill Helena after she had given birth. Well, as I was preparing to do so, Brooks stopped me.

"I confronted him on it and he admitted his feelings towards her. I just _knew_ he couldn't be trusted I-"

"Get on with it Lucius." Voldemort said irritably, he was already bored with the story, predicting what had happened. And as always he was proven right. Lucius proceeded to tell him of the duel (rather pathetic as Nagini described it) and how Lucius got momentarily distracted and Brooks had escaped.

"Certainly I will be hunting for him, what he did was unacceptable." Lucius said, obviously hoping to impress him.

"Let's not waste our time on trifling matters like Healers on the loose. I doubt a Healer couldn't do much harm. We have more important matters at hand. Let me see my son." He ordered briskly.

"How did you know it was a son my lord? If I'm correct, nobody could've told you." Lucius said, obviously trying to make conversation.

"What else could it be?" The Dark Lord hissed. Honestly, the nerve of Lucius sometimes. It just _couldn't_ be a girl. And if it were, he'd drown it.

Lucius decided not to respond and handed over the boy. Voldemort took the boy in his arms eagerly, completely taking in the boy.

"He's awfully small." Was the first thing that came out.

Lucius let out a laugh. "That's because he's born prematurely."

"Ah yes. He would grow, of course."

"Of course."

A comfortable silence followed as Voldemort continued to stare at the child; sometimes caressing it's cheek.

"He has beautiful green eyes. Like Avada Kedavra. It suits him."

"Yes my lord, he does."

"You will be his godfather of course."

"I am honored."

The next few moments were silent, as Voldemort continued to stare at the child in a way that Lucius had never seen Voldemort stare at anything before.

"What will you name him my lord?" Lucius asked.

"Ulysses Calissus Riddle." The Dark Lord said clearly, not taking his eyes off the baby.

"A beautifu-"

"Yes, Lucius, you may go." The Dark Lord said irritably.

The man bowed politely before leaving his presence. Finally he had some time alone with Ulysses. He smiled as he took in the boy's magical aura. He may be small, but he certainly wasn't weak. With his son at his side, they would be unstoppable, invincible, and immortal…

_Are you going to make him a horcrux?_

A nagging voice in his brain asked him.

_It is risky, it could hurt him. But how else will you protect him? Do you think Dumbledore will show him sympathy because he is a child? It certainly never stopped you._

Voldemort hissed, clutching the bundle. Dumbledore will never lay a finger on him! Not if he had something to say about it. But perhaps there was an alternative. A horcrux is risky. Nagini nearly died during the process. A baby couldn't survive such a feat, no matter how powerful.

That being decided he pulled his attention back towards the infant, who had started to cry silent tears.

"Shh, shh, my Ulysses. Don't cry. I'll keep you safe, and together, we'll take on the world.

**A/N: End of chapter 1! I decided to give Brooks a bigger role, so you'll be seeing more of him later! Please review!**

**Virtual hugs!**


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